The Challenges of Reality
by Sherlockian-Vortex
Summary: The sequel to "The Merging of Realities" in which Sherlock, John, Dean, Sam, The Doctor, and Castiel all slipped through a time/space rip between their realities and the fictional characters all ended up in Lucy's reality. In this story, it turns out that it wasn't just the heroes that were pulled into Lucy's reality. They must outwit the antagonists and save the world... again.
1. Chapter 1

*Credit to the character creators*

*Sorry the first chapter is so short, but I'll be posting chapter two with it, so it'll all be okay.*

**Chapter One:**

The museum basement was wet and dark. Not a place a person would ever want to be at around midnight. However, one man wandered through the aisles of ancient pottery and wax models. A gentle drip of water boomed in the background of the quiet building. The man stopped for a moment, looking both ways before picking up his phone.

Light from the screen reflected onto his face as he scrolled through the current weather reports for the town he was in. It was eleven degrees Celsius with a ninety- two percent change of rain, but that report didn't make sense. As far as he had knew the day was sunny and twenty-one degrees Celsius.

The man shut off his phone screen angrily and shoved the device into his pocket. He tried to think of what happened. One moment he was on a rooftop gloating over his greatest victory and the next… he was here in this building.

He sighed and let out a deep breath. He'd been in worse situations before, and at least this was interesting. How could a person just magically appear in a different location without their knowledge? As far as he could tell, he had not been poisoned. He hadn't been captured. He simply was… transported. That sounded too insane to be a possible answer, but he didn't rule out that option out yet. It was unlikely, but still plausible in an insane sort of way. But what if it was insane. He was insane. Insanity isn't really that bad once a person gets used to it.

The man pulled his phone out once more. He was going to have to get out of this museum and find a place to regroup.

"Good evening, Sir. Can I help you?" The man behind the desk was ordinary, so painstakingly ordinary. Everything from how he stood, reminding himself every so often to keep a straight back to how he kept glancing at the clock, obviously waiting for his shift to end. It was pathetic.

"Yes actually," he drawled, the words slipping off his tongue like liquid taffy. "I'd like a room."

"Of course, sir. Do you have a reservation?" The hotel worker was so boring, but most humans were.

"I don't." He kept his answers short and simple. It was best not to give out too many details in case he forgot them later.

"Let me check if we have any empty rooms." The worker bent down, examining the computer screen for extra rooms. His eyes kept flickering up to the stranger's face.

"Oh just get out with it. What do you want to ask me?" The man was in no mood to play games. He needed to think, be away from people like the hotel worker.

"I'm sorry Sir. You just look an awful lot like Andrew Scott." The worker was blushing and playing with papers on the front desk to hide his embarrassment.

"Andrew Scott?" The man asked, cocking his head. He'd never heard of the name before.

"Yeah. Andrew Scott. He's an actor, who played Moriarty on Sherlock. I guess you're not him. You just look really similar." The hotel worker grinned at him sheepishly, before turning back to the computer screen. The man stared at the hotel worker with a shocked expression. How could such a commonplace man know his name? "Uhh- There's an open room on the third floor. Is that okay?"

"That will be sufficient. Thank you." The man waited for the room key to be handed to him.

"James Mor-" The man cut himself short. He couldn't say his name was Moriarty. Apparently it was recognizable, and he couldn't allow that. "Moran. My name is James Moran."


	2. Chapter 2

*Credit it to the original creators of the characters*

**Sorry about the short first chapter. I promise that this one is a lot longer! Enjoy!**

**Chapter Two:**

Music was playing in the background, softly guiding the conversations around the room. Lucy was only half-listening to the music as she sat at a table near the front of the reserved section of the restaurant. Her parents had booked it for her graduation party. Lucy hadn't really wanted a party. Big deal, she had completed four years of college. She didn't think that it was much of an accomplishment.

Lucy glanced around the room filled with relatives she barely ever talked to. All, or at least most, of her extended family was there. But she couldn't tell second cousin Katherine from her third cousin in-law Sarah. Let alone know which one was the artist living in New York. A small sigh escaped from Lucy's lips. She always felt awkward at these gatherings. It wasn't that she didn't like her family, because she loved them even if she didn't see them often, she just didn't enjoy the large number of people in one room. All she wanted to do was go find Sam and Dean (and probably Castiel, since he'd been sticking close to the Winchesters last that she heard) and take off in the Impala. Sam had promised her that as soon as she graduated, she could join them. Dean of course hadn't been totally happy with that plan, but he relented when Lucy reminded him of both her skill and knowledge in the field of hunting.

_But God! This party is so DULL!_ Lucy hid a smile as she found that she wanted to shoot the wall with a gun. _Better let go of those Sherlock tendencies, they could easily cause trouble._

She tapped her fingers on the table, wondering how much longer she would be stuck in the restaurant when someone pulled up a chair next to her. She avoided looking at the person, hoping the, supposed, relative was just sitting down for a spell. She'd been talking to people for most of the evening, and she needed a break from the constant stream of questions, inquiring on her future.

"Congrats on graduating, Lucy!" Sam exclaimed, not the slightest bit turned off by Lucy's lack of social pleasantries.

"Sam?" Lucy swiveled her head to see the hunter. He had taken the seat right next to her and was holding two beers.

"Obviously," he grinned, extending one of the beers toward her. Lucy took it gratefully. She had been avoiding the bar for most of the night, since it was always crowded with people.

"I can't believe you came!" Lucy grinned, completely unable to tame her excitement. "I mean, I knew that you were sent an invitation, but I saw an article in the paper this morning that was right up your ally."

"Cas and Dean are working on that case actually. I took the day off to celebrate with you. I mean, this is a really great accomplishment. You better be proud of yourself." Sam rolled his eyes at the look on Lucy's face that clearly showed that she couldn't care less. "At least be proud that you made it through the last few months. You basically missed an entire week of classes due to the whole time- space rip case when we all suddenly popped into the picture. And I don't even know what it was like once you had to go back to school after all that. Well, I could imagine what it was like, since I sort of went through the same thing. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that you made it!"

"Thanks," Lucy flushed. "You know I've been a little confused on whether the debt will be worth graduating, but in the long run it probably is. I'm just glad to be moving on with the next phase of my life. I'm ready, you know?"

"I can understand that," Sam nodding his head. "But I also think that you shouldn't take this all for granted either. I'm not saying that you are. I'm just saying… enjoy the party. It's all for you anyway. Have some fun and loosen up for an hour or so and then we can leave." Lucy visually relaxed as Sam spoke. Her stiff posture melted to mold her chair and her apathetic mood dissipated more and more.

"It's not the greatest party I've ever been to. There are no good stories going around, and those are always the best part. I was eavesdropping on my Great Aunt Lucinda's conversation earlier. The most exciting bit of news that I heard was that Alexandra suddenly developed an allergy to eyeliner, and it was so bad that it made her eyes go red." Lucy smirked at Sam.

"It's not the eyeliner, is it?"

"Nope. I saw her take a hit in the bathroom. Honestly, we're in a nice restaurant. She could have at least taken that into consideration." Lucy crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

"I see what you mean. That isn't even the _least_ bit exciting." Sam raised the corner of his mouth in a smile, like he always did when he was being sarcastic. He raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his beer.

"You have no idea how boring it's been, since the last case. I just- I'm still going with you guys right?" Lucy asked. She was only trying to reassure herself that she hadn't misheard the plan at any point. She was to graduate and then she'd become a hunter. Maybe it wasn't the very best life plan, but she was happy with it. Really, anytime that she could spend with Dean and Cas and Sam, especially Sam, she was happy with. However, as soon as the question was out of her mouth, Sam hesitated. He went to say something before hiding the action with a sip of beer. Finally he cleared his throat, Lucy still looking, now slightly worried, at him.

"Are you sure that's what you want? It's dangerous and once you get into this kind of life, you can't get away from it. Your whole future… it'll just be ghosts and demons. You'll never be able to escape that."

"Too bad I'm already a part of it," Lucy retorted immediately. She had meant it as a joke, but the response had come out harsher than she had expected it too. She felt herself fade slightly from the conversation. What if Sam just didn't want her around anymore? Jessica's death hadn't been that long ago for him. Maybe he didn't want her following down that same path, but hadn't Lucy already shown herself to be strong enough to take on that kind of life?

"I guess you are, aren't you?" Sam mused. "It is dangerous though. You could get hurt. You could die. And I've- I've been through that before, and I don't want to go through it again. "

"I hope you don't have to either," Lucy said solemnly. "But… that's also part of the job description. I've been through one case already and I'm not dead. Sam, I can take care of myself. Believe me, this is what I want. I'm called to go on an adventure and to save the world, not just sit around while it's in trouble, while _people_ are in trouble."

"You're sure about this?" Sam asked after a moment of contemplating Lucy's speech.

"Absolutely," Lucy reaffirmed, leaning over to plant a kiss on Sam's cheek. "So I'll be going with you to whatever motel you're currently calling home as soon as this banal social event is done."

"I can't argue with you, can I?"

"Nope." Lucy grinned and settled into a more comfortable position in her chair. She scanned the room, looking to see if everyone else was enjoying themselves. She wasn't a huge fan of social events, but she did love her family, and she didn't see them often. At least she was lucky enough to have a large extended family. Sam had no one besides Dean. Lucy reached over to grab his hand once she thought of this, comforting him without explaining why. There was music playing in the background. From what Lucy could tell, the only music that had been played the entire evening had been pop. It was fine and fit the atmosphere, but it wouldn't have been Lucy's first choice. Everyone else seemed to like it, though, so that was good at least.

The current song ended (it had been Ke$ha or someone. Lucy couldn't tell a lot of the artists apart), and it changed to an instrumental song that was so utterly familiar, but Lucy couldn't quite place it. The song seemed to be unpleasing to the crowd as most of them left the dance floor as it played.

"The music choices here are bloody terrible. Who plays instrumental stuff at a party? It's just appalling." A rich, slightly Scottish voice said from the seat to Lucy's right.

"I'd have to say. Aren't you getting a bit full of yourself now? This is clearly Murry Gold's work. I'd hazard to guess it was the Tenth Doctor's theme." Lucy said, struggling to keep a straight face. Sam was cracking up to the left of her, causing Lucy to turn toward the Time Lord. There she saw perhaps the most offended look she had ever seen on a person's face.

"Oi! I like it. I've got a theme song and everything. I might as well use it. And don't worry, I didn't watch the show. I just listened to the soundtrack." The Doctor smiled widely at her before pulling her into a hug. "Congratulations Lucy."

"Thank you Doctor," Lucy replied warmly, pulling herself out of the hug. "I'm surprised you were able to make it. I don't think I was even able to send you an invitation earlier. I couldn't figure out what time you were in."

"No you definitely told me. I saw you just the other day. You were with the Winchesters- Hello Sam! Nice to see you're still doing well- and that angel fellow and you told me the date yourself." The Doctor replied, running his hand through the hair on the back of his head.

"I haven't seen Dean in months, and I've only occasionally seen Sam. They've been really busy lately. There was a lot of monster hunting to be done because of the timey whimey incident, so they've been tracking them down and taking care of business. I think they've disposed of yellow eyes as well as a lot of the demons that managed to sneak in. I haven't heard of much activity outside of the demons, so I don't think any of the less powerful monsters got through the rip. But I can only imagine how horrible it's been to control everything." Lucy said trailing off in thought. Then she added thoughtfully. "Perhaps you caught us at a future date?"

"Oh… that could have been it." Doctor said, his eyes trailing off to the side to remember the incident. "Yep. That makes a lot of sense now. Oh! You told me to remind you to bring your adapter. The one that has a plug for Europe, so you can keep all of your devices charged."

"Okay, I'll put it into my bag before I leave. I hadn't been planning on bringing it…" Lucy trailed off. "Am I going to Europe for some reason?"

"I don't know. You didn't say." The Doctor shrugged. "But that seems to be as good a guess as any."

"What do you think Sam?" Lucy asked.

"I mean, Dean and I haven't ever done an out of country gig, so I'm not sure. Maybe you're going to visit Sherlock and John? Didn't they move to London?"

"Yeah they did. They're living on North Gower Street. I haven't had a chance to talk to them much. Whenever I phone John, he and Sherlock seem to have a client, so I guess they've been doing well." Lucy shrugged. "That's so exciting, though! I can't wait to visit them."

"Were any of us going too?" Sam asked the Doctor curiously as he rolled his beer on the table as he did so.

"No idea. Sorry." The Doctor replied, dragging the corners of his lips down in a comical frown.

"Best to leave the future where it is and approach it when we get there," Lucy shrugged. Of course, she was curious, but she realized that it would be better not to press the Doctor. She wasn't entirely sure if he was telling them everything he knew. However, she knew better than to press him at all.

"Quite true. Quite true indeed…" The Doctor trailed off in his own thoughts before focusing his attention back on Lucy just as the song was changing to _The Twist_. "Would you care for this dance?"

"Hey Lucy, can you come over here for a sec," Alexandra stage whispered to her left. Lucy sighed silently and let herself be dragged by her cousin. She shot a "help me!" look toward Sam and the Doctor, but neither one moved to help her, continuing the current conversation without her.

"It's nice to see you Alexandra," Lucy partially lied. She had been close to Alex when they were kids, but they'd grown apart over the years. Lucy chose books when Alex chose drugs. It was unfortunate, but conversations always seemed awkward now that there was little common ground for them.

"And you too. Congrats by the way on college and everything," Lucy assumed that this wasn't why Alex was talking to her, so she nodded her head in thanks and didn't respond otherwise. It was usually best to let her cousin say her thoughts first before starting the conversation. "I was wondering if you could introduce me to hunky boy over there, the one with the long, glorious hair. He'd one of your friends, right? Is he single?"

Lucy looked over her shoulder to see that Alexandra was pointing at Sam. A wave of jealousy and laughter hit her simultaneously. She turned back to Alex and responded, trying to keep as straight a face as possible. "That's Sam. He's not single. Actually, he's my boyfriend."

"Oh," Alex pouted only momentarily, before her eyes lit up. "How'd you manage to date a guy like that? I thought you liked skinny guys, or girls. Honestly, I wasn't sure, you haven't dated anyone since tenth grade."

"I was just in the right place at the right time I suppose," Lucy responded. There had been a lot of luck in their encounter, which Lucy was grateful for. However, a thought crossed her mind. What if she hadn't been there? Would she be dating anyone now? Would she have graduated early? The answer would probably be no in both instances. Sam, and everyone else for that matter, had changed her life much more than she had originally thought. It hurt her head too much to think about, so Lucy turned her attention back to Alexandra, who was now eyeing up the Doctor.

"Is the other guy and ex or something?" She asked.

"No, he's just a friend." Lucy responded with a slight smile.

"He's old." Lucy had to hold back a laugh at Alex's comment. She didn't even know the half of it.

"A little I guess. He was one of the librarians at the school and we became friends over the last semester or two. He helped me a lot with researching projects." That last bit had been at least a little true. She'd called the Doctor up a few times to ask questions about her final paper topics. One time it had even resulted in an impromptu trip to a 1920's party, where Lucy had gotten to talk with F. Scott Fitzgerald. It had been quite a wonderful experience.

"That's neat. He sounds and looks more like your type than Sam does." Alex said, still clearly eyeing Sam. It was unnerving. Lucy knew that her cousin wouldn't do anything about her attraction to Sam other than look at him. She respected relationships, but her consistent staring certainly didn't help anything.

"Hello dear. It's so nice that you're talking to Alexandra, you two used to be so close." Lucy's mother had come up behind her and intruded on the conversation, which Lucy was relieved about. She and Alex were quickly running out of discussion topics. "I was wondering if you could introduce me to the two men over there. They look familiar, so they must be your friends."

"Yep, They're with me. Here I'll introduce you now. Bye Alex!" Lucy waved over her shoulder. She felt slightly guilty for leaving their conversation to early, but she was glad to be returning to her friends.

It didn't take long for Lucy and Mrs. Peverall to navigate through the crowd of people to reach the Doctor and Sam. The two men looked up when they approached.

"Mom this is my boyfriend Sam, Sam this is my mom." Lucy gestured to the hunter. Mrs. Peverall shook hands with Sam, and shot a look at Lucy, as if asking how she could have ended up with a guy like him. Lucy shrugged. She still wasn't entirely sure how the two of them had gotten together, but she wasn't going to argue it.

"And then this is-" Lucy scrambled wondering if she should call him the Doctor or something else. Thankfully he cut in before Lucy said anything else

"John Smith. I'm a friend of Lucy's. It's lovely to meet you." The Doctor extended his hand to Lucy's mother, and Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't figured out how to explain that the Doctor was a name, let alone that both of them used to be fictional characters, and now they were living and breathing in this universe.

"It's very nice to meet you too." Mrs. Peverall responded, shaking his hand. "It's always wonderful to meet Lucy's friends. Though, you, Mr. Smith, seem quite a bit older than my daughter."

"Well… I'm only a few years older. I'm sure that she's told you, but we were library buddies. We worked on finding research together. I'm in the last stages of the graduate program for English Literature, so I had to do a lot off research. We just kept bumping paths and finally decided to talk to each other." The Doctor threw a wink over at Lucy once he relayed their cover story.

"I see. How nice. You two must have made quite a pair in the library. Lucy's always been a wonderful researcher." Mrs. Peverall ruffled Lucy's short black hair.

"Mom, you're embarrassing me." Lucy laughed, swatting away her mother's hand.

"I'm allowed to do that Dear." She responded brightly. Then she turned to Sam whispered in my ear, "Is it serious between you two?"

Lucy glanced at him quickly. The hunter managed to be both awkward and regal in the room. It was surreal to be with him, but Lucy certainly didn't want to end it, and she hoped that Sam didn't either. She nodded hesitantly at first and then definitely. "Yeah, I like him a lot. I think we'll be together for a while."

"In that case…" She trailed off. "Sam, honey, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course," Sam nodded, sparing a glance toward Lucy. Lucy shrugged and drifted closer to the Doctor as her mother and Sam walked a little ways away.

"Do you know what that's about?" The Time Lord gestured to the pair.

"Well, my mom is a little protective when it comes to relationships, since I tend to be introverted around people. So she's probably warning him about that, but then telling him that while I might seem gentle I could snap his neck in a second." Lucy said all this rather plainly, closely watching the pair.

"It's the 'hurt her and she'll kill you' talk then?"

"Basically," Lucy laughed, as Sam shot her a slightly scared look while her mother kept talking. "But she really doesn't have to worry. She's the one who got me into martial arts in the first place, and she knows the extent of my skills more than Sam does. I'll be just fine." Lucy grinned at the Doctor.

"I'm sure you will be Lucy."

Sam and Lucy stepped into the small motel on Maple Street where the Winchesters plus one (now plus two) were currently residing. The room wasn't very different than any other motel room Lucy had seen on the television show. It was mostly clean, aside from a few empty beer bottles on the table and some plaid shirts thrown haphazardly onto one of the beds. The room smelt faintly of corn chips and tobacco smoke, but Lucy didn't mind too much. Her old apartment had smelled of burnt hair and grease.

"How long will you guys be here for?" Lucy asked, dropping her duffle bag from her shoulder onto the floor.

"Dunno." Sam shrugged. "It depends on how difficult the case is. We might leave in the morning or we might be here for another week. You can never really tell."

"Do you have a guess?" Lucy asked. She circled the room, barely even paying attention to Sam's answer. She was beyond ecstatic to be in the motel room with him. More than that, she couldn't believe that she had the opportunity to go on this adventure. Of course, Sam and Dean wouldn't call it an adventure. It was dangerous, unclean, and mostly unpleasant. Although, Lucy couldn't help but think that's a large part of adventures. Bilbo and Frodo had both left their comfortable homes and gone on adventures. They didn't have the best conditions all the time, but at the end of it all they had managed to make a difference. That's what appealed to Lucy the most. Sure, she was going to spending who knows how long with people, who she had first learned to love as characters. It was amazing really. Fictional characters becoming real? Lucy still couldn't believe her luck that the event had ended up surrounding her.

A wave of guilt washed over her at that thought, though. There were so many other people who deserved this more than she did. Individuals, who were suicidal and gained strength from the shows, deserved to meet their ideals more than she did. Lucy, well she had her down points in life, but she had gotten lucky there too. She had mostly supportive parents, both financially and emotionally. Of course, she'd had those days too. Where she wanted to die, or rather… she just wanted to cease existing. Let the world carry on around her without involving her, to just flicker out of existence. Those feelings had been the worst in high school. It was a small school in a small town, and she just didn't fit in with everyone else. Then came college. Lucy had been able to find her niche there, even if she didn't have many close friends. It had all been okay.

"Lucy? Hey. Lucy, are you okay? You haven't said anything in over ten minutes." Sam didn't sound worried per se, but he seemed uneasy as he watched Lucy circle the room slowly. She held out her hand, touching any object in reach as she stared blankly ahead of her.

"What?" Lucy shook her head slightly to clear away her thoughts, which were quickly straying from the topic. She looked at Sam, who was shifting from foot to foot, watching her movements intently. Lucy took her hand off the wall where it had been tracing the swirls on the wallpaper. It was shaking slightly. Quickly, grasping it in her other hand, she began to wring them like a nervous mother. "Sorry. I just sort of… blanked out. It happens sometimes. It's just been a long day. I'm fine."

"I was just kidding…Usually you interrupt my every sentence." Sam said, lowering his eyebrows in concentration. "Are you sure everything is fine?"

"Absolutely," Lucy answered with a nod. She put her hands behind her back casually, if only to get them out of Sam's sight. He didn't notice, staring instead at Lucy's face. He tried to gauge how truthful she was being. When he finally looked away, Lucy knew that he didn't believe her, but the hunter didn't press her either.

Thankfully, they were spared any sort of awkward silence by a sudden explosion of sound as the motel door opened, bringing in a cold wind and a few snowflakes.

"Hey, Sammy, you're back! Is Lucy with you?!" Dean yelled from just outside the door. Castiel was holding it open as Dean was making his way from the truck, his arms full of grocery bags.

"I'm here Dean!" Lucy called back. She was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed like her life was falling back into place now. It was funny how she could feel so at home in a motel room with crappy heating.

"Hurry up Dean, it's freezing outside." Sam called, but he was smiling too.

"Oh shut up, bitch. I'm moving as fast as I can," Dean replied affectionately as he walked through the door with all the bags. "Chances are you two scumbags ate at the party, but the food was probably crap. So I bought some Chinese take-out and the _Avengers_. Figured we could celebrate your graduation, Lucy."

Dean's eyes lit up as he spoke, casting warmth into the room. It was startling for Lucy to watch. She still wasn't quite over the fact that this Dean was from season two. All of the crap he'd gone through after season two didn't happen to him. However, Lucy noticed some differences in his personality. He was definitely happier than the current season of Dean, but he seemed more grounded. Maybe, it was simply that he had Cas now, or that he'd gotten to know Cas earlier in his timeline, and their relationship was evolving differently, which was probably weird for Cas. Cas who was strong and sturdy, much like boulder in the middle of a tempest. Cas who didn't fully understand humans but was compelled to protect them anyway. Cas who prized his loyalty with the Winchesters more than his own life. Cas who was currently trying to open a beer bottle without Dean noticing and doing an awful job at it.

The angel looked up at Lucy, silently pleading for her to help him as Dean laid the Chinese food out on the table. The newly grad rolled her eyes and went over to help Castiel.

"Dean, that sounds wonderful! Like the perfect evening, in fact." Lucy smirked. She took the bottle from Cas. She spoke to him in a whisper, "You're an angel. You don't need to eat or drink. Why are you trying to open a beer bottle?"

"I don't know it just looked really good, and for some reason my vessel wanted it." Castiel whispered back fiercely.

"Is that normal for an angel? I mean-" Lucy was cut off in the middle of her reply when the bottle finally opened, spewing its contents into her face and as well as Castiel's.

Sam's laugh echoed from the other end of the room, causing Dean to turn around and see the two individuals drenched in alcohol. With a smirk he teased, "You might want to slow down a bit. I only bought one six pack."

Lucy let loose a laugh and Cas grinned next to her. Maybe it was a dangerous life being a hunter, but Lucy hadn't felt this joyful in a long time. If anything, it seemed that this decision might possibly be the best one she had ever made.


	3. Chapter 3

The man looked like he was in the right place. He stood tall in a tailored Brooks Brothers suit in a room of men dressed in a similar fashion. Everyone was talking about business developments, and he followed their conversations easily. However, he didn't _feel_ like he was in the right place. He didn't recognize anyone, and, more surprisingly, no one recognized him. He'd been blasting his image across television for almost six months now. For the most part, the commercials had done their job at implanting his image everywhere.

He looked down at his watch, which read 2:00 pm, but according to the clock in the room 5:30 in the evening. Something had gone wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on what happened exactly. He had been in his office when his secretary had reminded him of a meeting he needed to attend downstairs in the ballroom. He supposed that he might have just blanked out while walking in the hallway and his watch had gotten off somehow.

This reeked of Winchester. They must have tricked him by putting him in some hallucination like Gabriel used to do. With that idea in mind, he surveyed the room, trying to find something out of place that would give away their game. He saw nothing.

_Might as well talk to the other business men here, _the man thought.

He walked over to the closest group of well dressed men, and entered into their discussion.

"-and I said "there's no way we can close this deal!" The land he was trying to sell me was completely inhabitable. The soil was dry and infertile. There was no sign of oil, precious metals, or even water. The place wouldn't make any profit. I told him, see, I told him that I needed the land for profit, and he was too incompetent to figure out what profit meant."

"That land," the man cut in. "I might have a use for it. Would you mind giving me your agent's number?"

"If you think you can do something useful with that land, be my guest." The business man pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to the other man. "I didn't catch your name before, Mr…?"

"Dick Roman. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Across the sea, there was another man at another meeting. Except this meeting was for a press conference, it would be broadcast to the whole of the United Kingdom. Anyone would be nervous, but not this man. He sat with his hands folded at the head of the meeting table. The rest of his advisors shifted in their seats, anxiously waiting for the conference to begin.

Everyone wanted to speak, but they all waiting for the man at the head of the table to do so first. He was the new prime minister now. They wanted to follow his leadership, which sometimes meant sitting still. Finally, the man spoke.

"Congratulations to all of you. I never would have come to this position of power, of responsibility, without your aid." Small smiles crossed the faces of several members at the table, priding themselves for their own accomplishments. Everyone clapped, and the man nodded at each person in turn.

"Thank you all," he said. "I have great plans for this country, and I will not fail you all or the people of this land. Now, I know that you all have specific points that you want me to talk about during the press conference, and I will be happy to listen… next time. However, this time I would like to go on stage by myself. I want the people to know me for who I am, and who I am according to all of these outside forces. I respect that many of you disagree, but… don't you all think that the people deserve this?"

Everyone nodded, almost perfectly in sync, at the man. They respect him and his choices. Some of them worry about the new Prime Minister going to a press conference without a plan, but as soon as he looked at them, those people felt more at ease with the idea. He would be fine.

"Enjoy the show everyone, I'll be just outside."

Again everyone clapped and nodded, and not a single person said a word as the man pushed his chair back from the table. He walked through the meeting room to the back of the press room. A woman with a microphone taped to her cheek lead him to the podium in front of the cameras and reporters, and told him "Congratulations" and "good luck."

He walked onto the stage, his feet falling lightly on the wooden platform. He took his place behind the podium and numerous microphones, looking at to the audience and the camera. He let his face sink into a genuine- looking smile as he greeted everyone. "Good Morning, I'm Prime Minister Harold Saxon, and I look forward to answering the nation's questions."


	4. Chapter 4

_Vworrp. Vworrp. Vworrp._

The TARDIS landed on the corner of a mostly empty street. There weren't many people out and about since it was early on a Sunday morning. Normally the Doctor didn't travel to Sundays. They had a tendency to be uneventful. And, also like normal, the Doctor hadn't actually been trying to travel to this particular Sunday morning. He half-glared and half- chuckled at the TARDIS's antics. It was hardly the first time she had brought him somewhere he wasn't planning to visit. He patted the console and grabbed his coat from the chair behind him, double-checking that his sonic screwdriver was still in his pocket.

He was hit with a blast of chilly, January air as soon as he walked out of the TARDIS. He was rarely cold with his coat on, but right now he wished for a pair of gloves, or maybe a scarf. The street corner he was parked on seemed to be in a normal, everyday neighborhood. The type of neighborhood the Dursleys would live in. However, the Doctor was sure that the TARDIS had brought him here for a reason. Something shifted in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to look.

The street corner he was parked on seemed to be in a normal, everyday neighborhood. The type of neighborhood the Dursleys would live in. However, the Doctor was sure that the TARDIS had brought him here for a reason. Something shifted in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to look.

The street corner he was parked on seemed to be in a normal, everyday neighborhood. The type of neighborhood the Dursleys would live in. However, the Doctor was sure that the TARDIS had brought him here for a reason. Something shifted in the corner of his eyes, and he turned his head to look; however, something, or rather someone, stopped him.

"Doctor?!"

The Doctor swiveled his head in the complete opposite direction and saw a red headed woman staring back at him with a mixed look of relief and of anger.

"Where the hell have you been Mister? Two months I've been here. TWO MONTHS! There I was one day walking down the street, minding my own business, and suddenly I wasn't in London anymore. Do you know how disorienting it is to suddenly be on a different street in a different town in a different flipping universe? This kind of thing seems right up your alley, so I figured "He'll be here soon." And I guess I was right, but IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!"

The Doctor retreated backwards a step, his eyes wide with speechlessness. Before him Donna, as angry and Scottish as ever, yelled her head off at him. He couldn't believe she was here. He didn't want to believe she was here. How far did she remember back? He'd already lost her once. Was the universe really so cruel to give him the chance to lose her a second time?

"And another thing, you're phone isn't working. You live in a bloody police telephone box, and your phone doesn't pick up. Do you know how annoyingly ironic that is?"

"Well I-" The Doctor started to respond, but Donna cut him off before he had the chance to do so.

"Also, do you even know where we are? In all accounts this seems the same as our universe, except here you're just a fictional character played by an actor- he's more attractive than you, less fussy with his hair- and I'm just a fictional person here too. But obviously I'm not." She twirled in front of the Doctor to demonstrate this. "Donna Noble: totally real and not fictional person."

"Yes, well we were, apparently, both sucked into this alternate universe where we are fictional. There was a time rip here about four months ago in a small New England town called Newbury, but we closed the rip. No one else should have been able to get back through, either way."

"So we're stuck here?" She asked. The Doctor couldn't tell if she was happy with that or not, but he nodded nonetheless.

"As far as we can tell, yes. We're stuck here." The Doctor responded. He couldn't help but look at Donna in awe. He was so certain that he'd lost his dear friend, but here she was, standing in front of him completely unharmed by their adventures together.

"I guess I'm stuck with you then," she smirked.

"I guess so." The Doctor smiled back. The past was in the past, and he couldn't do anything about it. He had another chance to travel with Donna, and he should treat that like a blessing.

"Wait, you said _"we."_ How many others are there?" Donna asked.

"Well there's me and you. Then there's Dean, Sam and Castiel from this show called _Supernatural_. And then there's Sherlock Holmes and John Watson from the show _Sherlock_. But if you got through, there might be others as well." The Doctor's mind began to spin. More people would be bad. The six of them had decided to seal their fates and remain in this dimension, but unknown others might have had their fates sealed as well. The familiar burden of guilt weighed on the Doctor's shoulders.

"Supernatural? Sherlock? I mean, I've heard of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson of course, but I didn't know that there was a show. Is it any good?"

"No idea. We all decided not to watch each other's shows, because it could mess up the future..." The Doctor glanced over Donna's shoulder as he said this, trailing off slightly at the end of his sentence. He could have sworn that there was something there, but he didn't see anything. However, if he hadn't been looking over her shoulder, the Doctor would have seen Donna's face contort into a look of panic. Apparently, the thought of not actually watching the show hadn't occurred to her, and she might have marathoned the new seasons in just over a day.

"So that's it? That's everyone?" Donna asked after getting her facial expressions under control, causing the Doctor to refocus on her.

"Yes, wait… no! Sort of. There's this girl named Lucy. She's from here, but the rip was influenced by her, since it appeared in a place she used to spend a lot of her time. We were all her favorite characters, so we got pulled through in the center of the storm, so to say, in Newbury. She was the one who brought us all together, and when demons- real demons not aliens- started pouring through the rip she helped us fight them off. She was brilliant- amazing really. She hadn't done a thing like this before in her life, and she was the key to defeating them." The Doctor's mind wandered in the direction of what could have happened. She was inexperienced, and they were supposed to protect her. But they didn't. They failed, and she had gotten hurt several times that day.

"And what happened to her?" Donna asked carefully as she watched the Doctor's face turn from excitement to pain. She worried the worst might have happened to the poor girl.

"Oh, she's fine!" The Doctor exclaimed in response to Donna. "She got banged up a good bit, but she's fine. She just graduated from college actually. I went to her party the other day, and she's dating Sam. She seems really happy with everything that's happened."

"She sounds interesting, right up your alley." Donna replied excitedly.

"Yeah well, she wanted to be with the hunters, since that's where Sam is. And I wasn't really ready to, you know… I wanted some time to travel alone. I didn't want to drag her into it."

"No no no, that wasn't what I meant! I meant that- I would like to meet her." Donna said with a smile. "So how about we go hop into your box and pay her a visit?"

Lucy was alone in the motel room when the TARDIS appeared. Dean, Cas, and Sam were all doing interviews at the moment. They hadn't quite finished her (forged) badges yet, so she couldn't go along. It hurt to be so close to helping, and still be unable to do anything. Lucy reassured herself that she'd be able to help soon enough. Instead she was taking the little time she had alone, and going through her inventory. The Doctor had popped by a moment ago, and she told him that she wanted her converter in case they traveled to another country, and told him the date of the graduation party.

She hadn't realized how little Sam and Dean traveled with. All they had really were two duffle bags. One had clothing and the other had weapons. Lucy had two bags of clothing alone, and another one of random, but necessary (in her opinion) items like the converter, her laptop, loose-leaf tea, and her favorite book. She felt guilty for having this extra stuff, but she wasn't sure what else she could donate or leave with her parents.

The TARDIS didn't surprise her when it started materializing in the motel room. Maybe she could ask the Doctor for his opinion, or even better store some of her clothing in her room in the TARDIS (well she said her room- she'd only used it a few times).

"Hey Doctor, what did you forget? You were only here a minute ago!" She teased as the door opened. "I can write down the date for my graduation if you need it."

"I've already been to your graduation, Lucy. Timey Whimey… you know how it is." The Doctor answered.

"So this is Lucy then?" The red head asked as she shoved the Doctor out of the doorway. "She's young! You didn't tell me she was young!"

"I told you she just graduated from college, how old do you think she would be?" The Doctor retaliated. Lucy stared in awe, her mouth slightly open.

"I don't know, 26 or so?" Donna waved her hand at the numbers, knowing that she wouldn't win this argument. "You also didn't tell me she was so cute. Seriously, I haven't seen anyone this adorable since… I'm not even sure."

"Donna?" Lucy managed to say, her brain still in shock.

"So she does know who I am! You weren't sure, and I told that she would." Donna grinned widely and approached Lucy with outstretched arms much like a mother hen. "Come on, stand up. I want to see you. I heard all about you on the way here. You seem like companion material, much more than I do."

"I really don't think so, you're absolutely brilliant." Lucy said as she stood up. Donna placed her hands on Lucy's shoulders.

"Well look at you. You are young, older than Rose, of course, but still young. The Doctor told me how brave you were a few months ago."

"It was nothing, really." Lucy responded. She looked at Donna with as much intensity as Donna did at her. "You're really Donna Noble?"

"The one and only!" She exclaimed. Lucy's shock finally faded and she broke into a smile as she pulled Donna in for a hug, much to the red head's surprise.

"I can't believe that you're here! But wait…" Lucy extended her arms, breaking away from the hug. She looked at Donna with worry now. "This can't be good. If you got through, who else could have gotten through? Doctor?"

"I was thinking the same thing," he responded solemnly.

"Good guys, bad guys- it would be awful if anyone else fell through the rip, but what if the villains made it into this universe? That could be very, very bad." Lucy rambled. Her eyes had grown distant as she looked through her memory, trying to figure out a pattern to who had fallen in relation to who could have also fallen through.

"At the moment, we don't know if anyone else is here, so I suggest we don't spend too much brain power on it when we can't do anything about it." Donna interrupted. "We can wait until someone turns up, and then pursue it further. I might have just been a fluke."

"It seems unlikely that you were just a fluke Donna. If you came through and landed in London, then it's really likely others came through as well. The Doctor found you- where? Cardiff?"

"Yeah. He did. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." Lucy shrugged. "Anyway, that's pretty far from the epicenter of this thing, which was about a mile away from the motel room we're standing in. That means that, _at least,_ between here and Cardiff there's a good chance other characters might have fallen through."

"How will you know if they came through, though? Won't they just look like people?" Donna asked.

"Some of them might, but they're look like the recognizable characters. Some of them won't. The ones I'm most worried about, the villains, they'll look human for the most part. But it's entirely possible that nonhuman creatures came through too. Sam, Dean, and Cas have been working on tracking monster cases for the past couple months. We figured it was a result of the battle- so to say- right before we closed the rip for good. However, we need to start looking for any signs of leakage."

"How will you do that?" Donna was standing with her head tilted as she listened to Lucy. She was a little stunned by the level of intellect this girl had. She seemed to have ready explanations for everything.

"The internet. Tabloids. I'll start looking for doubles of certain actors. If I have, say, a Mark Sheppard sighting in Ohio, when I know that he's in Canada filming, then we're going to have to be ready to deal with Crowley."

"Crowley?" Donna whispered to the Doctor, "Do you have any idea who she's talking about?"

"No idea," the Doctor responded shaking his head.

A rush of cold air entered the room as the motel door opened, letting Sam, Dean, and Cas in. They were in the middle of a conversation, muttering something about the fact that none of the suspects seemed to remember anything about what happened, but stopped when they saw the Doctor and Donna.

"Hey Doc, nice to see ya. Who's your lady friend?" Dean asked, instantly changing his own topic of conversation. He greeted the Time Lord with a casual two-fingered salute and a wink at the feisty red head as he threw his fake badge onto the table.

"Donna Noble, I'll take a salute too if you please." Donna responded without missing a beat. Dean looked from her to the Doctor and then back to her and raised his eyebrows as if to say '_I like you're choice in companions Doc.' _He then gave Donna the same salute he had given the Doctor.

"That's Dean," Lucy provided standing at Donna's side. "The 'short' one behind him is Castiel, but we all call him Cas."

"Lucy, I believe you're incorrect in your assumption that I'm short. I'm at least five inches taller than you." Cas replied matter-of-factly as he tenderly placed his trench coat over the back of a chair.

"He and Dean are totally infatuated by the way, so you might not want to stand between them. The sexual tension could rip you to shreds," Lucy whispered to Donna, just loud enough for Cas to hear her, but not loud enough for Dean, who was standing in front of an opened fridge, to hear. Castiel squinted his eyes at her, attempting to look menacing but failing.

"So the tall one must be Sam then?" Donna asked also whispering.

"That'd be right." Sam responded, walking over to shake Donna's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I know we're not supposed to talk about the shows, but Lucy's mentioned you accidently on several occasions. She seems to be quite fond of your character, so I really look forward to getting to know you myself."

Sam smiled genuinely at Donna, before releasing her hand from his two handed grip and going over to help Dean figure out what to eat for dinner. "You, Doctor, are horrible at informing me about appearances." Donna threateningly pointed her finger at the Time Lord.

"I hardly see why that's importa-"

"I'll tell you why, because next time I want to know if there's going to be attractive people nearby. If there are, then I'm bringing a camera. Because this is a sight that I would like to document." Donna gestured to the kitchen where Cas, Dean, and Sam were all bent over, shifting the few containers in the fridge.

"Wait I got this," Lucy affirmed. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and slid the screen into camera mode. She snapped the picture of the three hunters' asses, and then showed it to Donna, who whooped at her success.

"I'm beginning to really like you, Lucy."

"Well that's a relief, because you were my absolute favorite companion," Lucy responded joyfully.

"Well I'm certainly flattered, so I'm glad you said it," Donna replied.

In the course of next twenty minutes, Dean managed to heat up the rest of the left over Chinese food, and Sam cooked some whole-wheat pasta with sauce. It wasn't a fancy meal, but it smelt like heaven to Lucy's growling stomach. Normally, the four of them ate in various locations around the apartment. Sam would be at the small table in the corner on his laptop, Lucy and Dean would sit on the edge of one of the beds and watch television, and Cas would eat at the kitchen table while reading a passage from a magazine, typically rotating between _National Geographic_, _People_, _The Smithsonian, National Anthropology Journal, _and various poetry magazines. Tonight, though, all four of them plus the Doctor and Donna squeezed around the kitchen table, hitting elbows but making it work.

"So how were your interviews today?" Lucy asked. She had been dying to know since they returned to the motel. Sam, sitting to the right of Lucy, glanced at Dean across the table, who gave a small nod.

"They were a little unusual, even for us. The crime scenes were vastly unhelpful. There was no sulfur, no cold spots, and no body. The security cameras didn't pick up much, so it was almost like the thing knew where they were. We were hoping that the witnesses might be able to give us some guidance as to what it looked like." Sam looked around the table, worry deep in his eyes. "But no one could. It was as if the witness weren't even at the crime scene, despite obvious evidence that they were."

"But they weren't hiding anything," Cas interrupted. "Everything they said, they felt was the truth."

"But they sounded like robots." Dean cut in, his mouth full of lo mien.

"Right," Sam nodded at his brother, sneering in slight disgust. "Dean, have some manners. You weren't raised in a barn."

Dean just shrugged and continued to stuff his face with noodles.

"It was like they were reading from a script." Sam continued. "Every single witness said basically the same thing : 'I don't know what happened. I was there with [the victim], and I heard [them] screaming. I turned around to help [them], but… I can't remember what happened after that. The next thing I can recall was that I was half a mile down the road, and didn't remember how I even got there. I pulled out my phone to call the police. I told them there was a man with a knife, and that my friend was hurt.' All of the witnesses had this same story. All of them were convinced that a man with a knife attacked and killed their friends."

"Which is weird in itself," Dean continued. "Since a knife attack would have yielded a lot more blood at the crime scene then there was. Of course the killer could have just wiped it all up with bleach, but monsters usually aren't that smart. They just want to eat and leave."

"The only other guess that we came up with was that whatever killed the person ate the body, but by monster standards the scene is too clean for that." Sam said. He looked over at Lucy asking if she had anything to contribute by raising his eyebrows.

"I can't really recall anything right now." Lucy started. "But if you're doing more interviewing tomorrow I can scan some old episodes and see if I find anything."

"Sounds like a plan." Dean responded with his mouth still full.


	5. Chapter 5

Moriarty could sense that something was wrong as he looked out at the hallway for what seemed like the tenth time. The hotel was silent. Granted it was around two in the morning, so he didn't expect it to be bustling with life. However, if it wasn't the noise what was it? Jim shook his head and turned back toward his door. As he reached out to grasp the doorknob, he saw writing on the back of his hand:

**Don't look back. Go inside get a pad. Take notes when they talk to remember. You have a deal to make. **

Resisting the urge to look back was not as difficult as one might think. This was hardly the first time Moriarty had to pretend to act normal for the sake of his job. He walked into the room, his feet sinking into the overly plush carpet. Taking a pad of paper from the first surface he could find. He turned back to the open doorway. Except the doorway wasn't open, a creature the likes of which Moriarty had never seen before blocked it.

It stood tall in the doorway; its head barely scrapped the top of the frame. It was human-like in the sense that it had two legs, two arms, one head, and two eyes. But its face looked like a child had taken flesh colored silly putty and over exaggerated the chin and hooded the eyes so that they looked more like holes.

"James Moriarty," the creature said in a raspy voice.

"That's correct," he stood with his face straight, looking the creature up and down. "And you are?"

"The Silence."

"I like that. That's a catchy name." Moriarty cocked his head, and wrote the name down on the pad in blue pen. "So what do you want?"

"The Doctor."

"I don't know who that is." Moriarty replied. "But I will find him soon enough. No one can stay hidden for long."

"He is not human."

"You mean to say that he's alien?"

"Yes." The Silence replied, drawing the word out for a moment.

"Is he an alien like you?"

"No. He appears human but is not. He travels in a blue box, a police box."

"He's a little out of date then. Shouldn't be hard to find him." Moriarty paused for a moment, his brain working a hundred thoughts per second. "But I will only doing it on one condition."

The Silence said nothing, waiting for Moriarty to continue. Jim reached into the pocket briefly and hit the record button on his phone. There was no way he'd be able to write down everything he was about to say.

"I help you. You help me. I think that's fair enough, especially when it will be mutually beneficial. I don't like the sound of this Doctor fellow, and I think that he should be eliminated. That fits your agenda too. I have lost most of my men, and need to rebuild my…. web as you might say. You have a unique power, if I'm imagining this correctly. Once I turn away, I won't remember you other than what I have written down on this," he help up the pad and shook it. "I imagine that this particular talent gives you the power to plant thoughts in my unconscious mind. You can do that for everyone and anyone, if I'm correct."

"Yes."

"I thought so. It's a delicious power, you know. One that I would like to put to use." He paused for dramatic effect. "What do you say?"

"I speak for both myself and my brothers when I agree to what you've said."

"Brilliant." Moriarty held out his hand, and The Silence shook it.

"We will be in touch again soon."

The Silence turned away and walked out of the doorway and down the hall. Moriarty watched it leave, thinking about the deal he had just made. He jotted down quickly: **check the recording.**

Why was he standing in the doorway? What was he doing? Moriarty struggled to remember. He was on his way to talk to someone. He was going to make a deal, which is why he had a notepad in his hand. A pad that, when he looked at it, was full of notes he had no recollection of taking.

**The Doctor - alien, find, blue police box, human-like**

** The Silence- alien, silly putty face, comrades, don't remember them when you turn a way**

** The Deal - find doctor for them, they help you get back on top/ take over the world's system**

** Implants subconscious thought, but conscious thought it forgotten**

** Check Recording.**

"Ahhh." Moriarty exhaled. "That explains it all, doesn't it?"

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he closed the door to the hotel room. It was still recording when he unlocked the screen. It had been going for five minutes, but it seemed like it had only been a moment since he grabbed the pad. The way The Silence communicated was unsettling. He was going to have to work out a new system with them, because he disliked how untrustworthy his memory was becoming.

Sitting down in the sole armchair in the room, Moriarty listened to the recording, noting that he couldn't remember what was said afterward. Whatever system of communication he worked out with The Silence, it would have to be typed words. It seemed like he could retain nothing else in his memory. He could work that out later. For now, he needed to focus on finding the Doctor with the blue police box.

Certain that he wouldn't be difficult to track down, Jim opened a webpage to Google and searched for the "doctor with police box." He hoped to find a news article about that strange appearance. Instead he found a Wikipedia page about a police box, which apparently was called the TARDIS. A "time travel machine" that was from the planet "Gallifrey." At least it appeared that he was alien. However, as he continued to read, his enthusiasm for the simplicity of this task began to fade. The Doctor appeared to be a fictional character, and, even if he was real, he had thirteen different faces. It would be difficult to track him down.

Moriarty started humming as he scrolled through articles about _Doctor Who_, until he found one that mentioned _Sherlock_ with a picture of Sherlock, except the article called him Benedict Cumberbatch.

"What a stupid name," Moriarty muttered as he typed "BBC Sherlock Moriarty" into the search bar. He was shocked by the pictures of himself that came up even though he was expecting it. His face was plastered all over the Internet, destroying his cover completely. Anyone who had watched this show, which was like to be millions of people worldwide, would recognize him.

Or…. He searched "Moriarty actor BBC Sherlock."

"Andrew Scott," he read out loud, recognizing it as the name the hotel worker had addressed him as. Perhaps, he would be hidden even more now. Any searches of his name would turn up results from the TV show, there was an actor who looked exactly like him, and no one knew that he was here. Oh yes, this could work very well, indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

Typically crime scenes don't smell like cheese. There was that one case with the Brie expert, but that was only time John had been completely overwhelmed by the scent. However, this crime scene was in a simple gas station store. It was the kind that sold slushies, nachos, and under brewed tea.

Fillmore, a detective for Scotland Yard, had called him and Sherlock to the store. He got a kick out of Sherlock when he stormed into the building, demanding that he talk to Lestrade. Well, actually Fillmore had attempted to throw him out at first, but once Sherlock had deduced that he needed help with his job because he didn't have enough time for his family of three, because he was working overtime with the force, Fillmore was impressed by the detective. He took him on as an "unpaid intern" (a title which Sherlock detested). Mostly, though, Fillmore liked the idea that this "Sherlock" was actually Benedict Cumberbatch trying a weird method of getting into character. He figured that was why the actor was so good at his job. He told himself every day that he would work up the courage to ask him for an autograph or photo, but that day had yet to come.

It seemed like a simple enough case when Fillmore explained it. One of the employees entered at her appointed shift time, but no one else was in the store. She looked around for the manager or for her coworker. Fillmore explained that she had called their cell phones, only to hear them ring in the store, and, to top it all off, she found that the cash register was wide open with nothing in it. At that point she called the police. Of course, Sherlock only rolled his eyes at the phone and huffed out a breath of air as if to say "Isn't it obvious?"

Fillmore, who was getting to know this huff of air well, then stated the bit about the cheese. John hadn't caught what he said on the phone, since Sherlock started pacing and paying attention. Regardless to say, within ten minutes they were at the convenience store.

"What do think of this John?" Sherlock asked, startling John as he was beginning to nod off. John ran a hand over his tired face. The rest of the police officers had gone home for the evening. Fillmore had left the scene open for them as he closed up everything, meaning that it was eleven o'clock at night.

"It looks like a lot of cheese." John answered. He didn't have to look at Sherlock to know the look he had just gotten. "Umm… it looks like it was poured over a something, since the spill is all around this red chair, but not actually on it for the most part. That means something must have been in the chair when the cheese was poured."

"Why did you say something, not someone?"

"Well there's no body is there? And there aren't any footprints leading away from the chair." John looked at the cheese splatter again. There were some footprints that stood in front of the chair, but there weren't any other ones that he could see.

"So what do you suppose the poured the cheese on then?" Sherlock asked. He was circling the puddle, careful not to disturb any of it.

"Maybe a pot or something?"

"A pot?" Sherlock scowled, pausing his investigation to look up at John. "Why would they pour the cheese into a pot?"

"Maybe they wanted to bring the cheese with them as a snack?" Sherlock sent another look John's way. "I don't know Sherlock. It's not really like all people are rational. Maybe they just had a cheese obsession and wanted to drink it as they ran away with the cash from the store."

"You think that the manager and the employee robbed this store and then ran away with the cash, but in the process decided they wanted to take some cheese with them."

"Yes." John replied, his voice sounding more like a question than an affirmation.

"Hmm." Sherlock hummed for a moment before clicking his magnifying glass closed and standing up straight.

"Have you got something then?"

"Just a bit." Sherlock was grinning at the thrill of the puzzle.

"Go on then," John prompted him crossing his arms. "What have you got?"

"At least one of the men was murdered, but I highly suspect both of them were."

John's eyebrows knit in thought so intense that you could practically see the loading symbol on his forehead as he processed Sherlock's conclusion. "They're both dead? How could you possibly deduce that?"

"It's simple really," Sherlock gestured to the cheese as if he expected John to magically see what he did. After a moment, he sighed and pointed to some lines in the cheese. "You see these John? They were created as something was dragged across them. Given the width of them and their placement near the front of the chair, they were most likely made by a human. As you can see, there are a large number of these marks, which go all in, more or less the same direction, but there are no footprints, so the person who was making these marks couldn't get up. Why? He was strapped to his chair. You can see the duct tape residue on the back. The number of marks indicates that he was flailing. Since the marks are there after the cheese was poured on, the cheese alone didn't kill him. Something else did."

"You mean to say that there was a person sitting in that chair, who was covered in cheese?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying Watson." Sherlock replied.

"But where's the body? There aren't any drag marks around the chair. Did the murderer just pick him up and bring him elsewhere?"

"John…"

"Yes Sherlock?" John asked exasperated.

"Did you know that this type of cheese is normally one color, something like a yellow- orange?"

"And this is important because?

"This puddle has spots that are red- orange, especially around the chair."

"And?"

"Well, that means there must have been some blood. The shapes of the spots are circular, see? So that means the blood came from a fairly vertical angle like a drip. Then you have the fact that there's no blood splatters on the walls, so the victim couldn't have been failing at this moment. He was probably already dead. The victim could have been hit on the end with a blunt object. The splatter pattern matches that, but…there's something else." Sherlock put his fingers on his temples as he looked at the chair.

"How did you know it was blood? It could be food dye." John pointed out, gesturing with his left hand for emphasis.

"Oh simple. I tasted it. There was an iron taste in it. Of course, we'll need proper testing, but I'm confident that it's blood."

"You tasted it Sherlock? God, you tasted-Sherlock you can't do that! You're going to get sick or-"

"Please John, save the lecture. I know the risks involved." Sherlock steepled his hands and put them against his lips. "The real question here is: why did the murderer cover his victim in cheese before killing him. It's an extra effort. The tank would be heavy. It would be take up time, in which he could risk being caught. It would make the murder more noticeable. Why? Why would he do this?"

"Maybe he wanted to make his victim tastier." John joked sourly, obviously miffed about Sherlock's lack of thought when it came to giving himself diseases. Honestly, everyone knows not to taste other peoples' blood.

"John that's ridicu…." Sherlock trailed off. His eyes darted around the scene from the chair to all of the splatters of cheese and blood. "Unless?"

"Unless, what Mr. Cumb-Holmes?" Fillmore asked. He was standing in the back of the convenience store with his arms crossed.

"Well if the murderer ate his victim after killing him, then that could explain why there are no footprints leading away from the chair from the victim." Sherlock answered. His hands were in his pockets reaching for his phone.

"A murderer wouldn't be able to eat his victim in the chair. It's not humanely possible."

"Precisely." Sherlock took the phone out of his pocket, already dialing a number. "Come on John we have a call to make."


	7. Chapter 7

"Hello?" Sam said, answering his phone. He, Dean, and Cas were interviewing family members of the victims from their current case. He had briefly stepped out of the room to answer the call.

"Hello Sam. It's Sherlock. I have a question that I think you might have the answer to."

"Yeah, shoot." Sam started pacing as he listened to Sherlock describe the crime scene.

"You think the murderer ate him?" Sam asked for clarification.

"That's my theory, yes." Sherlock answered. "But there were no bones. A human wouldn't have been able to eat another person that quickly and without leaving a messier scene."

"So you think it's-" Sam looked back into the room where Dean and Cas were interviewing and lowered his voice. "The type of thing Dean and I would deal with?"

"Exactly." The word was punctuated with impatience.

"Well, I'd need to look at my notes, but at the moment I can't recall anything that would leave nothing. Werewolves have been known to eat their victims, but I've never heard of one that left nothing behind. Usually the victim looks like a dog attacked it. Vampires are only interested in a victim's blood, so there would be a body. Umm..." Sam stopped his pacing as he thought about recent cases. "Could be a Wendigo. Dean and I faced one of those a year ago. They have to eat flesh to survive, but they have a tendency to store their food. But they would only eat that quickly if the person really pissed them off. Lucy might have some more ideas, since she's seen our future cases, plus she has Dad's journal. He cataloged more monsters than Dean and I have. There might be something in there that she can find."

"I'll call her then. Thank you for the help."

"No problem. You have her number?"

"Yes."

"I have to go. We're in the middle of an interview right now. Call me if you need anything else."

"Of course." Sherlock hung up, and dialed in Lucy's number. While the phone was ringing, he turned to see John's face.

"What did Sam say?" He asked.

"He said it most likely wasn't a werewolf or a vampire. He mentioned Wendigos. Could you search for that?"

"Sure." John pulled his laptop closer and started to type 'wendigo' into the Google search bar while sounding out the word to guess its spelling. Sherlock smiled, very slightly, as he watched John's peculiar (and slow) way of typing with only his index fingertips.

Having twenty tabs open on a web browser was never a good idea. The laptop runs slower, and it takes a long time to switch between tabs. However, Lucy had no intentions of closing a single tab. The reason? Sherlock season three. She had readily agreed to stay behind today while the three boys went to interviews. The show was premiering in Britain at the moment, and God save her if she missed it.

There was an intense amount of thrill to watching a show as it was streaming live. It felt like being part of a worldwide community. Lucy liked that when she gasped at what happened on the screen there was another million people gasping at the same time. It was true that her live-stream was crummy, but she could cope with it. Every once in a while her live stream would go down, but then she'd switch tabs. And it was all okay.

She had been excited about this particular episode as well: _The Sign of Three. _John was getting married, and she couldn't wait to evaluate Sherlock's character. It was weird knowing that there was a Sherlock wandering around London as she watched this, but she attempted to keep that thought out of her mind. She wasn't going to give up her show just because he existed.

Across the room, Lucy's phone started ringing. She glanced at it quickly before electing to ignore it. There was only half an hour left of the episode. Lucy figured she could call back later. The phone rang out before going silent. Then it started ringing again. Despite the ring tone being exactly the same, the phone call seemed more instant.

Lucy glanced at the screen and heaved a sigh. "Dammit BBC. I need a commercial break."

She walked backward, keeping eye contact with the screen as the show played on. Grabbing the phone after a moment of feeling around for it with an eye on the screen, Lucy answered it, "Yello"

"Hello Lucy. It's Sherlock. I have question." _Oh shit. _Lucy glanced at the screen, deciding what to do.

"Heyyy Sherlock." Lucy stalled. "What's up?"

"I have a question for you about a case. Sam said that you'd probably be able to find an answer for me."

"Depends on what the question is." Lucy answered absentmindedly. She was back to watching the episode from a distance. Would she be able to walk toward it without Sherlock hearing it was on? She decided to risk it. Then she could turn down the volume and continue watching, or she could just plug in ear buds. She looked around the room and spotted them sitting on one of the two bedside tables.

"John and I were at a crime scene-"

"Uh-huh." Lucy affirmed making her way toward the ear buds. John had just called Sherlock a drama queen on the screen, and Lucy resisted the urge to laugh out loud at Sherlock's reaction.

"And we found traces of a person who had been eaten."

"Right." Lucy covered the receiver with her hand, so Sherlock couldn't hear much as she scrambled to grab the ear buds and plug them into the laptop. However, the volume was so loud that noise still managed to escape the headphones.

"Are you even listening?" Sherlock asked, scowling. And given the fact that she was not actually listening Lucy muttered, "uh-huh" into the phone again, as she lowered the volume and fitted the ear bud into her ear.

"Lucy!" Sherlock shouted, causing Lucy to startle at the sound. "There is a man dead, and you're watching television. Tell me, what's more interesting than a case."

"Uh… well." Lucy stammered. She glanced back at the show, just as John spotted Sherlock and Janie on the screen. Before she could filter herself, she blurted "Fuck, he's jealous."

"What?" Sherlock was getting more and more confused.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry Sherlock. I got distracted. There's a show that I was watching on television. It, uh… called Agents of Shield. It's a real dramatic show about super heroes and such. I'm watching last night's episode. It's no big deal." Lucy paused a moment to collect herself. "You called about a case. You said a person had been eaten. What are we talking about here? Hannibal Lector or _Supernatural?_"

"Supernatural." Sherlock confirmed. His mind was partly thinking about what show Lucy was watching. He had the sneaking supposition that she was lying.

"Okay." Lucy looked back at the show. Sherlock was playing a violin piece for John and Mary. It was beautiful, making her heart ache on Sherlock's behalf. "What other details do you have for me?"

"The crime took place in a convince store. There were obvious signs that the store's cashier had been tied to a chair, but no signs that he ever left the chair. The blood surrounding the scene and imprints in the cheese indicated that the victim had been struggling indicated that there was a chance he was eaten. There was no body, so it seems unlikely that a human could have done such a thing." Sherlock rattled the facts off into Lucy's ear as she continued to watch the show with split attention.

"Wait, back up. Did you say cheese?" Lucy interjected.

"Yes."

"Like nacho cheese?" Lucy asked. She had an idea of who (or rather what) committed the murder, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions. Meanwhile, in the show Sherlock was giving a short speech to John and Mary. He was making his vows. Damn, Lucy wished that Sherlock wasn't on the phone with her. She needed to evaluate this closer.

"Precisely."

On the screen, Sherlock was going over the John and Mary. He told them that Mary was pregnant.

"Oh fuck!" Lucy reacted, again, unable to filter her thoughts.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked, obviously agitated.

"Leviathans." Lucy recovered, making it sound that her language was directed at the thought of the Leviathans. "They're bad news. I saw one perform a scene exactly like that in an episode… with the cheese and everything. If they entered this universe, then we're really in trouble."

"And you're sure that this is the monster?" Sherlock tested her.

"Like 99% sure Sherlock." Lucy responded. She was no longer paying attention to the show. "Fuck. Okay, let me pull up a list of what you can use to fight them, and what they look at. You and John could probably search for it on Google as well.

"Okay I pulled the page up. So Leviathans are incredibly old, Sherlock. The myths in _Supernatural_ say that they were the first of God's creations, but they went bad. They were too strong and too destructive, so God threw them into Purgatory. They show up in, like, season seven. Sam and Dean are from season two. They're nowhere near experienced enough to handle these guys." Lucy drifted off in thought. "Though, Cas might be. I can never tell what season he's from, you know? I always could just ask him. You think it would be easy, but it's hard to tell. The big changes with his onscreen character changed with his and Dean's relationship, but I can't go by that now since Dean is so much younger. The relationship isn't the same between them now as it was on screen, which is probably good. The higher ups that produce the show screw with their relationship a ton. Maybe in this universe it will work out for the two sons of bitches.

"Anyway, don't pay attention to me. That information isn't particularly important or helpful for you. So… the website says that 'the only way for a hunter to kill a Leviathan is with a Bone of Righteous Mortal Washed in the Three Bloods of Fallen.' I'm going to assume that you don't have that, so here's what also works. You can use Borax. It doesn't kill them, but it burns them very badly. It's like when you squirt holy water on a demon. These monsters have a quick recovery time, though, so you'll need to be careful of that. Even with decapitation. It slows them down, but if you give them enough time, then they'll find a way to reattach their heads, which might sound a bit strange." Lucy laughed lightly. "But they aren't actually human, despite looking like it. Their insides are kind of weird, and it looks sort of like black glue. And they have these circular mouths with rings of sharp teeth."

"How do we find them?" Sherlock asked. Lucy could hear him pacing as he talked.

"The way you would find anybody really. I would start looking at businessmen though. In the series, the leviathans were sort of led by this guy named Dick Roman. So I'd start there. He should be an upper level business man with a ton of recent and nonsensical property purchases." Lucy replied. She heard someone taking notes in the background and assumed it was John. Sherlock seemed to memorize everything instantly.

"Anything else, Lucy?" John asked. Sherlock seemed to just be listening at the moment.

"Roman was based in America, since that's where _Supernatural_ is set."

"Then what are leviathans doing in London?" John questioned.

"No idea." Lucy said honestly. "It's kind of worrisome if he's expanding beyond the U.S., especially if we have any other villains on the loose."

"Other villains?" Sherlock jumped in. "What other villains?"

"Well the Doctor popped in the other day with Donna, who's from _Doctor_ _Who_ as well. She, apparently, turned up in Cardiff while the rest of us were in Newbury…" Lucy trailed off, letting Sherlock finish her thought.

"Other people might have gotten through the rip as well." Sherlock supplied.

"Yeah. That's my fear." Lucy responded. On the other side of the line someone flopped down onto a couch. It was probably Sherlock.

"Thank you for that Lucy." John started to say slowly. "We'll be on the lookout for more villains. If you could email me the names of some of the people or… monsters or aliens to look out for that'd be great."

"I'll get right on it Dr. Watson." Lucy said. Her mind was switching to business mode. The happy-daze of the new Sherlock episode seemed a long way away now. "I'll talk to you soon. Stay safe."

"You too, Lucy." John responded.

Lucy hung up the phone and stared back at the screen, which was now rolling the credits for the episode. Leviathans. Why did it have to be leviathans? She flipped her phone in her hand a few times, before calling Sam. The call went to voice mail.

"Hey Sam. Call me back as soon as you can. We have… a potential situation here."


End file.
